A World In Four Years
by wild-sunshine
Summary: Pavel can't stand being four years younger than Hikaru. Slash Chekov/Sulu, oneshot, abstract sex, fluffy/reflective.


Hi!

I'm still pretty new to this category, so. Please be nice? Although everyone I've heard from in this area has been amazingly sweet so far, so that's lovely. Anyhow, this is a fluffy, oneshot, reflective thing.

To date, only the second fic based on personal experience. Which is… odd? I suppose?

Teensy bit AU, because I don't know if Pavel like, played hockey and stuff.

Warnings: just a little abstract sex-ish stuff.

Enjoy and please review!

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Pavel Chekov has never been bothered by feeling _young _before. This isn't to say he's never been the youngest- he has, many times. He's been the youngest, the smallest, the first, the best, the only, at all sorts of different things. It's something he's only recently recognized, this drive, this hunger, to be unique, different and just _better. _He seeks this in everything, insatiably and unapologetically, and it deeply upsets him when he's like other people. Average, Pavel long ago decided, was not something he'd accept. So he skipped from first to third year at the Academy, and frowned when he heard Jim Kirk had already done the same, first. He studied without coming up for air, and became the best navigator in Starfleet, lacks the modesty to blush whenever he's referred to as elite. He trained to be the fastest in track, and even took up hockey so he could take pride in being the smallest, even though the discovery of a younger teammate made something dark swell up in his chest. Once Pavel identified this need that has reared its head in every pursuit he's ever undertaken, he's never been able to quiet it. The desire to be set apart and special has ruined things he should have been proud of. Good grades, well-executed plays, correct starcharts, all lost their appeal when they weren't notable, but merely unremarkably flawless.

It's different with Hikaru. Hikaru Sulu is four years older than Pavel, and while Pavel can delight in teasing Hikaru about this, he doesn't like to seriously think about it. Being the youngest is no longer a joy for him, nothing like an accomplishment. It's something that strikes him, pushes thoughts into his head. He wishes he'd met the nineteen year old Hikaru, but he would have been only fifteen, still gangly and awkward; he looks forward to turning twenty-one, drawn to the classic appeal of being the American drinking age, and remembers that Hikaru is already there, past there; he's jealous Hikaru met him at eighteen, but he didn't get to meet Hikaru until Hikaru was twenty-two, somehow feels like he's missed out on something. Pavel doesn't like being younger; it feels like he'll never catch up, and it gives him something more to worry about, this chase he'll never, never win.

Hikaru kissed him first, nervous and slow, but Pavel still worries Hikaru will realize he's terribly young and give up on having to think back to his age all the time. Hikaru doesn't have the heartbreaker past that Pavel does, a past that's yet another source of somewhat guilty pride for Pavel. Pavel has been breaking hearts for years, rejecting people since he was thirteen, before he even knew what anything meant. He's had three boyfriends and kissed six people, and it makes him feel like an expert. Hikaru's had none, and while he's been with one person- wording that made Pavel blink in confusion, until Hikaru clarified _had sex with _and admitted to being scared by that look on Pavel's face_- _there had been a worried look in his eyes when he told Pavel that, like he was afraid Pavel wouldn't approve. This look shows up sometimes, that half disappointed, half worried look, when he thinks Pavel's judging him for something Hikaru's not proud of, something that sets them apart. Pavel hates himself for clinging to this supposed weakness of Hikaru, thinking Hikaru is the needier of them, the one that should worry about hanging on to Pavel. He can't help it, though. Hikaru is older, and there's a whole world in the four years between them, filled with things Pavel's afraid to examine, scared he'll find that he won't be able to understand.  
>And then, the unforeseeable happens. Pavel <em>forgets. <em>Hikaru's arms are wrapped around him, hands frantic, as Pavel drags his teeth over Hikaru's ear, making Hikaru moan and jerk. The give and take aspect was what really surprised Pavel; suddenly, choosing whether giving or receiving is his favourite is a challenge. Making Hikaru like this, held together by just desperate pleasure, makes Pavel's heart race. The first time they kissed, the way Hikaru bit at his lip made Pavel shiver with pleasure, and this is the same, feels the same thrilling rush when he makes Hikaru feel that way, too. He's never done this before, never felt this comfortable, felt _eager _to delve into this exploration, to run his hands over Hikaru and lick at his neck and bite his ears, it all feels _good, _as if this was being done to him.

None of this, this breathless motion, feels impersonal, like Pavel thought it would. There, in the way Hikaru's hands fit against Pavel's hips, the solidness of Hikaru's chest beneath him, the ragged jags of his breath, the frantic rolling of his hips, it's like he's re-saying everything he ever said to Pavel, all the sweet words and the shy smiles. Hikaru's movements aren't void of the emotions they've found together – their feelings resound in the echo of every move, and no matter what ever happens, Pavel knows this will stay safe in his memories, perfect and shielded in this night. He lets Hikaru guide his hips in a rough, roiling pattern against his, those hands- _Бог, _but Pavel _loves_ his hands- grasping and grabbing, so needy, and this is the balance they've found. Hikaru needy like this, needing Pavel's body against his, but sure in his movements, starting everything, directing, and Pavel uncertain in technique but so willing, being led, the one causing all this, making Hikaru need him so badly. They're balanced, and this is when Pavel forgets, forgets that although it feels like he's been waiting for this his whole life, Hikaru had to wait four years longer than him, that there was a time when his other half wasn't anywhere in the world.

The whole world is quiet when Hikaru's movements still. Pavel has always had an overflow of words in his head, always, and spends his life seeking moments when everything will go quiet. Now, Hikaru's hands motionless on his back, warmth all around him, Pavel thinks nothing, Pavel exhales and doesn't think anything at all. He turns his face against Hikaru's neck, Hikaru's skin hot, and there's nothing but that gentle, calming quiet all around them.

Pavel's whole world shrinks to one single sensation: Hikaru's pulse racing, audible where Pavel's ear presses against his neck. The vastness of space disappears, all the stars that pinwheel away from them vanish, simulated cool night air evaporating from Pavel's skin, because there's nothing in the world but this. There's just Hikaru's heartbeat thudding through him, so fast and gradually slowing, because the chase is over, because Pavel raced through four years and finally, finally caught him.

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End file.
